As soon as Hart said 'Sergeant Major' in his best 'I aim to justify myself' voice, Taft made eye-contact with Fia and pointed at Hart. "And that's how you get them to call you by rank." Taft gave his half smile, the one that pulled at the long healed scars on his face. He took another swig of his lemonade while he let the guy run through his explanation. The guy deserved to finish it all off before Taft ruined it for him, it was only fair.

When he was all done, including his readdress to Fia, Taft casually added the missing detail. "I know all about it. I'm out of the Marine Raider Regiment, all three of us here are US SOCOM affiliated. I just wanted you to call me Sgt Major. That said, you really should consider transferring to Army Public Affairs. You've got a real shiny speech worked up, Lt. Colonel."

"I know all about it. I'm out of the Marine Raider Regiment, all three of us here are US SOCOM affiliated. I just wanted you to call me Sgt Major. That said, you really should consider transferring to Army Public Affairs. You've got a real shiny speech worked up, Lt. Colonel."

Fia chuckled softly. No wonder the man had the reputation he did, but then she knew he didn't always play fair. Well not the generally understood version of fair. He played Taft fair, and so far she had no complaints. Right, so we are all special snowflakes. Her laughing gaze looked from one man to the other, one brow raised in question. Special Forces Snowflakes. Is this when we stop comparing ... resumes, and start talking shop? She certainly hoped so, heaven knew she would lose in the '... resume' department.

A flicker of movement behind the Lieutenant Colonel drew her attention. Incoming, Hart. Fia gestured to the inbound waitress, who was loaded down with two of the best looking steaks she had seen in a long time. Fia set down her perry, realizing she was two thirds through her second already. And feel free to call me Fia, outside the mountain.

(Sorry guys for holding you up. I had finals last week and one more this week...)

"And that's how you get them to call you by rank." Damn you... Liam said to himself as he fell right into the trap, he knew it was coming, that was the Marines sense of humor, dry as it was. But its alright, he'd get him him back, eventually.

"Funny man, David." Liam smiled as he took a sip of beer, he really, really needed it.

"I know all about it. I'm out of the Marine Raider Regiment, all three of us here are US SOCOM affiliated. I just wanted you to call me Sgt Major. That said, you really should consider transferring to Army Public Affairs. You've got a real shiny speech worked up, Lt. Colonel." Really? Liam public affairs, there was a reason why he joined the Special Forces, he preferred to work and live in the shadows not deal with the vultures that is the media...

"Maybe, if I had a soul. However I much prefer keeping my assault rifles slung around my neck instead of dealing with the vultures, shooting them is better than cooperating with them." In Liam's mind anyways.

Right, so we are all special snowflakes. Liam agreed with that, and three different branches at that, doing three different things. Special Forces Snowflakes. Is this when we stop comparing ... resumes, and start talking shop? Liam never really liked to talk about work, not his missions in the US Army Special Forces. Even General Hammond wasn't cleared to know about all of his work, he probably knew most of it but some of it was classified and he wasn't able to speak about any of it except to those who were involved in the operations. No one knows better how to keep their mouths shut than those in the intelligence and the military special operations community.

"Yeah, resumes are boring anyways." Liam agreed.

Incoming, Hart. Interesting, Liam didn't mind at all except he knew David would, if she said it to him unless they were that close but Liam moved as the waitress moved in. And feel free to call me Fia, outside the mountain.

"You can call me Liam, I don't mind being called by my birth given name, unlike some people." Liam said looking at David.

"Too late, you already lost." He said before taking a sip of his lemonade, savoring the liquid languidly. Taft was no longer invested in the competition, he didn't do 2-out-of-3. Artificial resets being disingenuous and all that keeping him from valuing such things.

Taft raised an eyebrow at the idea that Liam thought he didn't have a soul. Best case, he was kidding himself. Worst case, he was sincere and one triggering event away from a war crime. Either way, Taft decided he'd feel better if Hart spent some time with the base psychologist. He found himself smirking at Fia's penis joke. Not because it was particularly funny but because it tumbled out of the imagination of a good Catholic woman. Context was everything in comedy. Then he chuckled when Liam apparently missed the association, because Taft had never met a man who found his own 'résumé' boring.

The only reaction Taft gave to Fia using the term 'incoming' was briefly closing his hands into fists before leaning back so that the waitress could lay the food plates in front of them. He immediately set to pushing the garlic butter around the steak's top surface to ensure full coverage. "You don't have as nice a last name as I do, not your fault but the fact remains. And Sgt Major is my 'given' name. That's why the Marine Corps lists it first."

Taft was already smirking at her, she couldn't help answering both he and Hart. I wouldn't know. She replied, her expression neutral except for a slight quirk of her brow. Taft would get it.

As her plate was set down in front of her, Fia gestured to the waitress for another perry, smiling her thanks at the efficient service. O'malley's certainly didn't disappoint. The steak was good; thick in cut and drowning in garlic butter. All it was missing was toast points underneath to qualify as an old-fashioned. She unwrapped the steak knife, fully expecting the first bite to be heavenly.

We just came from the range over... I forget where. Fia chuckled. Sooner or later she was going to have to sit down with a map and familiarize herself with the area names. At the moment she could get from the mountain, to the country club, to Taft's, and to Corsetti's deli. That's about it. Was a great afternoon for shooting.

"Too late, you already lost." He had a point and Liam gave him a point, but he will make him pay for it in due time. Lieutenant Colonel's outrank Sergeant Major's and in due time Liam would take his shot and he'll be sure David isn't ready for it.

I wouldn't know. Guess nobody understands Liam's sense of humor, that is alright, he didn't need people to understand it. He saw David smiling obviously not getting it either, it's okay. Liam being a career Special Forces Officer he tended to have a weird sense of humor, he also did have a soul but it was a lot easier living without one especially when battling terrorists or the damn Jaffa.

"I would hope not, Fia." Maybe they'd get it now, that or the Chair Force doesn't have much of a sense of humor, nevertheless Liam understood.

"You don't have as nice a last name as I do, not your fault but the fact remains. And Sgt Major is my 'given' name. That's why the Marine Corps lists it first." Man, Liam would love to bump this guy back to an E-1, he just loves the title.

We just came from the range over... I forgot where. That's about it. Was a great afternoon for shooting. Yep definitely new to the area, Colorado Springs wasn't that big, but then again it was big enough and it isn't like anyone gets to explore the area much considering everyone stays in the mountain or explores a new planet.

"It is always a great afternoon to go shooting. As long as you don't get shot, there is a Marine I know who tends to get a bit trigger happy..." Liam said looking at David, that wasn't true of course, though he was a Marine and Marine's in general love to fight and blow things up. Liam was a bit trigger happy though, but he had to use his weapon practically every mission whether it was here on Earth or in the middle of a planet with no name, instead three alphanumeric digits a slash and some more alphanumeric digits.

Taft responded at the same time as Fia's "I wouldn't know" but saying, "Must be using it wrong." True to the natural multitasking ability that had carried Taft so far in the military he mentally noted Fia's gesture even as he handled the conversation with the Lt. Colonel. "We all have different tastes in music, don't feel too bad about it, Hart." He was more than willing to call the guy whatever he wanted to be called while they were out in the civilian world. It made the guy feel better, made the civilians feel better, it was all good.

Fia was trying to get the name of the range and Taft supplied it easily, it wasn't his favorite place in the world but he hadn't motivated himself to make his own yet and it was good to occasionally speak to other people who didn't fear the Sgt. Major. "Pikes Peak Gun Club. It was a sufficient place with great company." His face showed nothing but he made sure he caught Fia's eye when he said it. "I assure you, Hart, when I'm shooting the only dangerous place to be is inside an enemy uniform."

Fia chuckled, right or wrong, she still wouldn't know. Though she was certain she would figure out when it was right. Shaking her head at her own thoughts, she finished off the second perry, placing the bottle aside for the waitress to take when she came back with a replacement. Her cheeks pinked slightly at Tafts subtle compliment, the sneak.

Fia cut off a small bite of the steak, appreciating just the right amount of pink on the inside. At this rate O'malleys was quickly becoming a favorite. Or behind an MR-1. She added to the list of places not to be when Taft was armed with a rifle. He's a damn good shot with a rifle, though I bet if I had had my M4 it would have been a closer competition. She popped the morsel of steak in her mouth, a small pleased sigh following. Yup, favorite.

"Must be using it wrong." Old men and their weird humor... Liam sighed.

"We all have different tastes in music, don't feel too bad about it, Hart." Is that another metaphor or something? Liam wasn't sure but it was obvious that he was weird but Liam already knew that, most people in the SGC are weird except for Liam. And Liam noted that he actually called him Hart, interesting, for such a formal military man, that is.

"Pikes Peak Gun Club. It was a sufficient place with great company. I assure you, Hart, when I'm shooting the only dangerous place to be is inside an enemy uniform." Liam agreed although they don't get off base enough and Liam gets plenty of target practice when off-world dealing with the Jaffa, it is never a friendly meet and greet it is always shoot first ask questions lat- no no, just shoot first, no questions asked.

"I am aware, Sergeant Major. I know you wouldn't shoot me in the back or front, you have plenty of marksmanship training and experience"Maybe not as much as me, but Liam didn't say it out loud. He didn't like to toot his own horn or anything but being a Special Forces Officer, you tend to use your weapons quite often, and train even more.

Or behind an MR-1. He's a damn good shot with a rifle, though I bet if I had had my M4 it would have been a closer competition. So they know quite a bit about each other, some romance is in the air, Liam noted.

"M4 is my favorite rifle, it is also the primary rifle in the Special Forces so, not like I have much choice in using it but I prefer it over its M-16."

"Certainly not on accident, sir." Things had changed in the United States Armed Forces, it wasn't nearly as common in the current climate, but every now and then an officer was 'field courtmarshalled'. It was rarely talked about event that took place more often in the Special Forces than at any other level, where the practical tolerances for stupidity or personal dislike were in much shorter supply. Taft was aware of at least three instances of it in the last decade, two in Marine Recon and one in the Army Rangers. No charges resulted from any of them, either. All of these thoughts went through his head as he sensed the condescension in Hart's reassurances that he knew Taft wouldn't shoot him.

"I favor the USAS-12 Combat Shotgun, for my current assignment but I would never turn down an M1 Garand." Taft began eating his steak, he'd just compared a shotgun to an assault weapon and was perfectly comfortable with the fact. He was trained for brutal, tactical assault. The acquisition of ground, the elimination of enemy personnel, the destruction of enemy materials. Shotgun did that job real well, especially in urban combat but it didn't suffer for being in the field necessarily. Range, that was the only shortcoming, and that's what the designated marksman was for.